


Love Will Keep You Clear

by boazpriestly



Series: Who You Choose To Be [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Jack is a five year old boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 17:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12635865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boazpriestly/pseuds/boazpriestly
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester hadn't known what to expect when the Devil's son was born, but a terrified five year old little boy hadn't even been in the top three.





	Love Will Keep You Clear

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song "Still Misunderstood" by Romeo Testa, which is my go to Jack song at the moment.

Jack sits in a chair at the police station in clothes just a size too big as he swings his legs from side to side because when he does that the chair moves, and it makes him smile. The older boy who found him -- Clark Barker, Jack quickly learned -- just watches him and pinches his eyebrows together; he doesn’t say anything. Clark’s mother, the Sheriff, crouches down in front of Jack and asks him questions that he doesn’t know the answers to. 

He tells her his name is Jack because it’s true. Says that he’s looking for his father, but that his mother is dead. He looks at his feet when he tells her that; the words make his heart hurt, and moisture collect in his eyes. Something wet falls down his cheek and he quickly wipes it away. The Sheriff touches his knee, squeezing lightly and telling him that things were going to be okay. He smiles at her a little. She’s nice, like his mother and his father. 

“I’m going to go get you some juice,” she says, reaching up wipe away more moisture from Jack’s eyes and then touch his hair. “Do you have a preference?” 

“Preference?” Jack parrots with a tilt of his head. 

“How about I surprise you.” She stands and tells Clark to keep an eye on Jack. He nods says he wants a soda as payment. She laughs and then leaves. 

Jack resumes kicking his feet. 

“You really don’t remember how you ended up naked in a forest?” Clark makes a face after he asks. Jack isn’t sure what the expression means, but he thinks it might not be good. 

He shakes his head. “I’m hungry,” he says right as his stomach lets out a sound that startles him. He looks at Clark with wide eyes.

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Clark agrees. He stands and walks around the desk he was sitting at. He holds out his hand. “C’mon, I know where to get something to eat.” 

Jack looks at Clark’s hand, then back up at his face. He doesn’t move. 

Clark rolls his eyes and then bends down and picks Jack up, setting him on his hip. He comments on how light Jack is, says that he looks like he’s weigh a lot more. Jack wiggles a little, trying to feel his weight the way Clark can, but Clark just moves his arm under Jack’s butt and asks if Jack needs to pee. 

“I don’t think so,” Jack says, though he doesn’t quite understand what Clark is asking him. 

“Okay,” Clark says, putting Jack down on the floor, “well, if you do have to go, just tell me and I’ll take you to the bathroom. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Clark smiles at Jack and then claps his hands together and gestures around the room. “This is the glorious break room,” Clark announces in a funny voice that makes Jack laugh. “Anything you want can be found here because cops eat just about everything and they are terrible at hiding the snacks they don’t want the sheriff’s kid to eat.” He starts opening things he calls cabinets before opening the thing he calls the fridge, and calls Jack over. “There’s sandwiches, salads -- no one actually likes those -- pickles, hot dogs, leftover burrito bowls. See anything you like?” 

Jack looks at everything in turn, taking in all the shiny silver, foggy plastic, and white boxes covering most of it. His stomach makes the noise again and Clark looks at it. 

“Hmm, maybe leftovers aren’t going to do it.” Clark closes the fridge. He picks Jack up and sits him on the counter top. “Do you like granola bars?” 

“I don’t know,” Jack says honestly. 

“You’ve never had one before?” 

“I don’t know,” Jack says again.

Clark reaches into one of the cabinets and pulls out a box. He sets it down next to Jack and tells him to dig in. When Jack just stares at the box, Clark laughs a little and says, “Oh yeah, I forgot, you’re like a newborn.” He sticks his hand in the box and pulls out a small rectangle wrapped in plastic. He tears open one of the sides and peels the plastic, revealing a smaller rectangle inside. “This is a chocolate chip granola bar,” he explains, “it’s one of the best things ever invented besides Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and 3 Musketeers bars.” He puts the granola bar in Jack’s hand. “Eat it.” 

Jack examines the granola bar for about three seconds and then put part of it into his mouth and bites down. His eyes go wide as the sweet flavors explode over his tongue. He looks at Clark and grins as wide as he can while still keeping his mouth closed; he doesn’t want any of the granola bar to fall out of his mouth. 

“See, I knew you’d love it. Lemme see if we have anything else that’ll be life changing.” 

For the next half an hour, Jack and Clark slip into a routine of Clark taking out different foods he thinks Jack will like and Jack trying all of it and telling Clark if it’s a winner or a bust (Clark’s words). Jack learns that he hates pickles, sour patch candies, and roast beef (much to Clark’s heartbreak) but loves peaches, donuts, and chocolate syrup straight from the bottle. Clark high-fives Jack as he downs nearly a quarter of the bottle in one go, and grins at Clark with a toothy, chocolate stained smile. They laugh together for a minute, and then Clark puts the syrup back in the fridge and gets a wet washcloth from the edge of the sink and starts wiping chocolate off of Jack’s face. 

“Wanna try something even better than chocolate syrup?” 

“What’s better than chocolate syrup?” Jack asks.

“Good answer.” Clark lifts Jack off the counter and places him on his hip again, carrying Jack over to big rectangle with a clear front that stood against the farthest wall in the room. Clark points to something that looks like one of the granola bars, but the plastic wrapped around it is silver with red words written on it. “You see that?” 

“3 Musketeers?” Jack reads.

“Best candy in the entire world. Wanna try one?” 

Jack nods and squirms in Clark’s arms. “I don’t have to pee,” he says before Clark can ask. Instead he leans forwards a bit, placing one hand on the glass and one just above the buttons on the machine. He eyes the candy as Clark adjusts his hold on Jack. 

“We’ll have to wait until my mom get back, though. ‘Cause you need money to get stuff from the vending machine and I don’t have and change on me right now.” Clark says. 

Jack sticks out his lip, frustrated. He doesn’t want to wait, he wants it now. Clark wants one too. There has to be a way to get one without waiting for money. 

Suddenly the vending machine shutters and shakes under Jack’s hands. Clark lets out a quiet “Whoa”, and then two 3 Musketeers bars and three other kinds of candies fall from their coils and into the slot below. 

“What the hell?” Clark mutters. He sets Jack on the floor and grabs the candies out of the machine. “I’ve never seen it do something like that before.” Clark sits down on the floor and Jack sits next to him, crossing his legs just like Clark does. Clark stares at the candies in his lap for a moment before shrugging and then tearing open one of the 3 Musketeers and passing it to Jack who bites into it almost immediately and agrees that it is definitely the best candy ever. 

When they are done devouring the candies, Jack decides that he wants more. He stands and puts his hands on the vending machine again. 

“I don’t think it’s gonna happen again, kid,” Clark says, clearing his lap of candy wrappers. “It was a freak accident. Probably a short in the --” 

Jack’s hands feel warm as the machine shakes and shutters again and more candy falls from the coils. This time, Jack grabs all the candy -- mostly 3 Musketeers bars -- and drops them on the floor next to Clark. He sits down in the same spot he’d been sitting in before and tears open one of the candy bars the way he’d seen Clark do it. 

Clark watches him with his mouth open for about as long as it takes for Jack to finish one 3 Musketeers and reach for another. He shakes his head, seemingly choosing not to care about how the candy was acquired, and grabs a candy bar too.

As they each reach for a third bar (they’ve started a contest to see who can eat the most in one sitting), Sheriff Barker walks into the room. Her voice sounds different than before as she asks them if they’re okay. 

“Yeah,” Clark says after swallowing what was in his mouth. “Jack was just hungry. He really likes candy.” 

Jack look back at Sheriff Barker and smiles around his mouthful. “I like nougat!” he exclaims. 

Sheriff Barker gives Clark a look and Clark shrugs and holds up his hands. 

“How did you get all of that anyways?” Sheriff Barker asks, gesturing to the candy. 

“Show her what you did, Jack,” Clark says. 

Jack stands and touches the vending machine for the third time. This time it’s easier to do what he did before. This time he just thinks about the candies he wants and only those ones fall out. He grabs them and holds them out triumphantly. 

“Jack,” Sheriff Barker says, her voice taking a tone that makes Jack feel weird. “How did you do that?” 

“I don’t know,” Jack says with a smile. 

He means to walk back to Clark, to drop the candy where it goes and then continue their game. But he takes one step and pain erupts inside his head. The candy falls from his hands and Jack falls to his knees. He yells, grabbing at his ears, his hair. It feels so sharp and awful. 

Clark is the first to get to Jack, but Sheriff Barker is the first voice he hears. 

“Jack! Jack are you okay?”

The moisture is back in his eyes and falling down his cheeks; he doesn’t try to wipe it away. 

Clark grabs Jack and pulls him onto his lap. He holds Jack’s face in his hands moving Jack’s head back and forth, checking him over and asking over and over what happened and if Jack is okay. 

Jack doesn’t know. He couldn’t tell them what just happened even if he tried, all he knows is that it hurt. It hurt so bad. 

He opens his mouth to say just that, but the pain shoots through his skull again and this time he screams. He yanks himself out of Clark’s hold and rolls off his lap. His eyes are shut tight as he stands and sets off for the door. He hurts so much, and it isn’t stopping. 

Sheriff Barker reaches out Jack. Her fingers graze his arm and the contact is too much. And inferno erupts where her skin met his and Jack throws out his hand to tell her not to touch him again. The power that Jack used to get the candy shoots from his hands, but it’s stronger than before -- worse. Sheriff Barker flies back and slams into the glass of the vending machine, shattering it before falling to the floor. Clark shouts and goes to his mom. 

A cold sinking feeling fills Jack’s stomach. He runs as best he can, but the pain messes up his vision and makes everything shake and tip to the side. His stomach feels bad, very bad. 

“Jack?” Someone says. It isn’t Clark or Sheriff Barker, but Jack can tell it’s a man. Someone he’s seen before, met before. The man looks at him, and rage fills Jack’s insides. He doesn’t like this man. This man wants to hurt Jack. 

The power comes back worse than ever before, and Jack tries to aim it at the man in front of him. 

Then the pain shoots through him like nothing he has ever felt before, and everything goes black. 

 


End file.
